- Home
- Paul Whybrow
Hold Onto Yourself
Hold Onto Yourself Read online
Hold Onto Yourself
12 Warm & Funny Poems for Children
Paul Whybrow
Copyright 2014 Paul Whybrow
Published by Paul Whybrow
(Originally written and published under the pen-name
Augustus Devilheart)
Cover Art: Simon Howden at FreeDigitalPhotos
Hold Onto Yourself
12 Warm & Funny Poems for Children
License Notes
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold
or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person,
please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did
not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return it and
purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work
of this author.
Hold Onto Yourself
12 Warm & Funny Poems for Children
Disclaimer
This book is a work of fiction. While some of the place names are real, characters are the product of the author’s imagination and are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental.
Hold Onto Yourself
12 Warm & Funny Poems for Children
'He who laughs, lasts'
Mary Pettibone Poole
Contents
The Poems
A Windy Day
Do You Believe In Ghosts?
Swimming,Swimmy Swim
Making Up Stories
Count-down,Count-up,Count-down
Ducks,Swallows and Cats
Hold Onto Yourself!
Tracks In The Snow
What's Up?
If I Were An Animal
Whiskers
Give Yourself A Cuddle
The End
About The Author
Also by Paul Whybrow
Novellas
Short Stories
Song Lyrics
Poetry
Novels
Connect with the author
Hold Onto Yourself
12 Warm & Funny Poems for Children
Paul Whybrow
A Windy Day
A dustbin just blew past the window.
I wonder whose it is?
No rubbish inside it, that's adrift
In the terribly strong wind.
It's blowing a gale out,
Sixty miles an hour, at least.
It sounds like a giant beating
Great big pillows on our house.
There's booming and banging,
Strange clattering from the roof.
Something's loose up there,
The tiles or aerial about to let go.
I'm glad we're indoors, for the people
Outside are leaning over to stand straight.
Hanging onto lamp-posts to prevent
Being blown back where they've been.
There goes a carrier bag across the sky,
Like a burst balloon it flies swiftly.
The birds are all walking or clinging
To branches, afraid to take to their wings.
Something rattled down the chimney.
The extractor fan's clapping in time
With the gusts that tap its flaps open.
The wind is finding ways in.
Strangest of all is the water in the toilet.
It's moving around, blown from beneath.
How windy does it have to be for that?
I hope that I don't get splashed….
Do You Believe In Ghosts?
I've had enough with ghosts.
They're not all they're said to be.
The one who lives in the spare room,
he tells fibs all of the time to me.
He pretended to be an old general,
killed in some silly war,
sent back to rattle his sabre at us
and cry a blood-curdling shriek.
But I found out he's a dead teacher,
who fell off a ride at Disneyland,
not in some horrible battle.
He's no braver than my granny.
I'm supposed to be afraid of a banshee
who wails and screams in the shed
when wind blows fierce and strong,
like a sailor in the rigging.
But he's only a greedy cook
who ate too much ice-cream,
got fat and had a heart attack.
He groans with belly-ache.
Don't talk to me about the phantom
who lurks around the hall, putting
icy fingers on your neck,
sneaking up behind you.
She's a no-longer-alive librarian,
who lost her glasses, and stepped
in front of a bus, though her
spectacles were in her pocket.
I'm done with dishonest ghosts.
What are they doing in our house?
I'd like to make them go away.
Do I believe in ghosts? No I don't!
Swimming, Swimmy Swim
Splish-Splash-Splosh.
I'm going to get wet.
Throw my limbs about,
Move through water like a trout.
Swimming, Swimmy Swim.
I'm a water-creature, sleek and slim.
Glistening and dripping,
A happy hippo grin is my mouth.
Diving, ducking, dive-bombing.
Plunging from above into below,
I'm a gannet, a gull, a puffin, a pelican,
Holding my breath for as long as I can.
Wriggling, writhing, wringing
Water from hair and costume,
A naughty otter, I sit on the shore
Before I gleefully slide in for more.